Why Don't I Ride The Bus? And Would I Ride The Streetcar?

I've lived in Cincinnati since 2000 (with one year away while I worked for a federal judge). In all that time, I've never used public transportation in Cincinnati. During brief periods of time that I've been without a car, I didn't go to SORTA's trip planning page; I dialed 411 and found a cab.

Why?

It's certainly not an aversion to public transportation. I grew up in Buffalo (until I was 14) and Pittsburgh (for high school), and in both cities rode the bus frequently. I spent a few years in Chicago, where I rode both the bus and the "el." I lived in New York for a summer, and reveled in busses, trains, and subways there (in fact, I had an unbreakable "never drive in Manhattan" policy, and was too impoverished to take cabs). And on visits to D.C. and Moscow, I've happily used public transportation.

Some of the problem, no doubt, is lack of familiarity with bus routes in Cincinnati. If I wanted to catch a bus to Hyde Park from downtown, for instance, I have no earthly idea how to do it. Some of it is discomfort with Cincinnati's geography generally: if it weren't for my Tom-Tom, I might still be wandering around the West Side after my most recent excursion there.

But lack of familiarity can't explain it all, can it? Certainly, the first time I was in NYC, I had no idea how to get to Yankee Stadium from midtown Manhattan. But somehow, I found the "D" train and got there in time for a game.

In Cincinnati, unlike in other cities, public transportation isn't widely embraced. Had I told friends in Chicago of plans to drive from the dorm (in the South Side) to Wrigley, they'd have been incredulous. During law school in Cincinnati, had I told friends of plans to take a bus from Clifton to the ballpark, I'd have been greeted with blank stares.

Downtown is small enough that I can walk anywhere. I live at the western edge of downtown, and have no trouble walking to the courthouse or the Justice Center, both on the eastern edge. One fun night a little while ago, a companion and I had dinner at Palomino's (sorry to you chain-haters), walked to Music Hall for a concert, and then walked over to Kaldi's. And I ended up getting back to my apartment (near Tina's) on foot. Of course, the weather was nice that night.

If I leave downtown, I drive. I'll admit it: I don't even think about the bus. A few weeks ago, I spent all day at the UC College of Law for a seminar. That would have been a simple trip. (According to SORTA's tripfinder, I should have caught the 18 at Government Square and taken it to Clifton and McMillan. The trip would taken 12 minutes, required a half-mile of walking, and cost $1.50.) But as much as I hate finding parking in Clifton, I didn't even think about the bus.

As the streetcar debate rages on (presently fueled largely by the folks over at IHateLightRail.com the Beacon), I wonder, would I get my ass on public transportation if it were a streetcar instead of a bus? Probably not so much. I might use the downtown "circulator" to get around downtown (instead of walking), but I doubt I'd use the downtown-Clifton connector instead of getting in my car. The thought of standing on a corner in ten-degree or ninety-degree weather to catch a streetcar just doesn't appeal to me. (Add in the other factor--that once I was at my destination, I'd be limited to traveling to other locations along the proposed streetcar's fairly limited route, or face a bus-or-cab choice.)

So what about y'all? Every time I've been even remotely negative about the proposed streetcar, you yell at me in the comments. If you're one of those who do, do you take the bus now? If you don't, will you use a streetcar? And why use the streetcar when you won't use the bus?

We've got to think this stuff through before we make the major policy decision that light rail represents.

Sheriff Leis Needs Some P.R. Help

The war of words between Commissioner David Pepper and Sheriff Simon Leis is escalating. Jessica Brown blogs the exchange here; and here is Leis's most recent missive, with Pepper's responses. As far as I can tell, the Sheriff is losing the battle of public perception. People seem to think that he is being intentionally inflexible, taking a "my way or the highway" approach and engaging in a high-stakes game of chicken that threatens public safety in this county.

That one-dimensional image of Sheriff Leis may make it easier for some to hate the guy who's gotten stuck laying off an unprecedented number of police officers. But I don't think it's accurate. Leis has been in public service for a long, long time. Everyone who knows him (I do not) indicates that he cares deeply about this community, and is passionate about his job. When he's recently made public statements about the difficulty of sitting across from a deputy and terminating his employment, I've felt that he genuinely hates laying people off.

Unfortunately, the Sheriff isn't giving me much evidence with which to back up my give-the-guy-the-benefit-of-the-doubt approach. Leis says he can't give up helicopter operations. Why? What does the helicopter do? How does it improve public safety? Pepper wants Leis to use funds from asset forfeitures to fund deputies' salaries. Why isn't this possible? (I thought there were statutory constraints on the way that money was spent, but Pepper doesn't seem to think so.)

Leis did a good job, in his recent letter, of explaining why he can't just fire people with "desk jobs" instead of those on the streets: the former, as it turns out, perform functions--such as concealed-carry licensing, sex offender registration, and fingerprinting--that the State requires the Sheriff to carry out. But both Pepper and the FOP (the union that represents the sheriff's deputies) have petitioned Leis to cut the salaries of "double dipping" members of his administrative staff (those people who have already "retired," so now both earn a salary and collect a pension). Leis's only response has been to point to County Administrator Pat Thompson and note that he hasn't been asked to take a similar pay cut. Thompson's salary is certainly worthy of scrutiny (one of these days, I like to research whether--as some have suggested--Thompson has financially benefitted from the deep cuts to the County budget). But "you're as bad as I am" doesn't sound like a responsible response. Why can't administrators (who are also collecting pensions) take pay cuts? In a better economy, I might be concerned these folks would leave for greener pastures. But if Leis forces a pay cut on them, where would they go?

I hope some day soon, Leis writes an op-ed for the Enquirer explaining why his budget is as lean as he says it is. Because for the time being, those of us who believe he's a good guy who wants to do the best job possible for the citizens of this county are having a tough time defending him.

(Finally: if you're ever discussing HamCo's budget nightmare and someone mentions the Sheriff's tank, just walk away. That person doesn't know what s/he's talking about. The County acquired the tank for free. And the Sheriff hasn't spent any money training on it since sometime last year, when it became clear we were in serious economic trouble. The tank is a red herring that has nothing to do with the current crisis.)

UPDATE: I had not seen this Enquirer article before I published this post. But my questions about the helicopter and double-dippers remain largely unanswered.

Ohio Firm Threatens Internet As We Know It

Last year, Blockshopper.com, a website that tracks real estate transactions in various parts of the country, noted that two attorneys had (separately) purchased properties in Chicagoland. In reporting the transactions, Blockshopper linked to the attorneys' profiles that were on the attorneys' law firm's website.

Well, either the attorneys or their firm didn't like that the sales were so widely reported. To an extent, it's difficult to blame them. Although real estate records have always been public, they have been easily accessible for only the less decade. (Maybe it's not a good idea that any Hamilton County homeowner's address can be ascertained on the Auditor's website. But that's a post for another day.)

Being attorneys, they couldn't just dislike something. And it doesn't hurt that they work for one of the largest law firms in the nation, Ohio-based Jones Day Reavis & Pogue (www.jonesday.com). So the firm did what any lawyer, faced with a bad economy, does: it created work for itself by becoming its own client in a lawsuit. The firm claimed that the practice of direct linking constitutes trademark infringement.

I'm an expert on neither trademark law nor internet law, but every account of this lawsuit I've read leads me to believe the claim was laughable. Part of the usefulness of the internet is its connectivity, and we all use "embedded links"--that is, creating a link that takes a reader to another page, although that other page's web address is not displayed as part of the link.

Laughable or not, David cannot always slay Goliath. Blockshopper finally waved the white flag after spending over a hundred thousand dollars in legal fees. Its settlement with Jones Day calls for Blockshopper to cease using embedded links; instead, in linking to Jones Day pages, it will always do so by diplaying the website address in a parenthetical, as I did in the second paragraph, above.

The Jones Day suit and settlement is a threat to every website and blog on the internet. Any corporation or individual with sufficient funds can now attempt to force those who write things they don't like to alter or take down their content by bastardizing trademark and unfair competition laws. It's hard to imagine how Jones Day's mark was diluted by Blockshopper's use. But that's exactly what they claimed. And after expending what was likely thousands of hours of attorney time, it bullied the small website into an arrangement that makes writing about Jones Day more inconvenient and time consuming (and less readable).

Links: The Plain Dealer; Citizen Media Law Project

Another Candidate in for Council Race

Just when you had enough of politics, election season is fast approaching. Tony Fischer comes across as someone the Democrats Nationally view as viable future candidate. The problem is that he is unknown. Nearly everything I know about Tony Fischer is in the blog post, so check out his website to learn about him: www.votetonyfischer.com. (He is pro-Streetcar!)

Tony is an Iraq vet, which normally in politics is going to get you votes. He'll get some attention for that, but in a Cincinnati Council race, where are those votes going to come from? Is he going to target the Westside and Eastern areas of the City: Hyde Park, Mt. Lookout and Mt. Washington? All of those areas would tend to have residents who may not agree with all of his positions as a Democrat, but they are more likley to vote for him because he served in Iraq. What neighborhood(s) are Fischer's logical base?

Cincinnati Sports History

The Enquirer is conducting a survey, asking readers to choose the most memorable or iconic picture in Cincinnati sports history. What's absent is perhaps as interesting as what's included.

My guess is that the "winner" will be some moment in Red history. My first thought upon reading what the survey was about was Pete Rose running over catcher Ray Fosse in an All-Star Game. Of course, I've only lived in Cincinnati for the past eight years, so my take on what's memorable or iconic is no doubt different that what a lifelong Cincinnatian will remember.

What did I expect to see that's not included in the Enquirer's offerings?

• A better picture of Marge Schott
• An "action shot" (i.e. on the court) of Oscar Robertson (yes, I saw the shot of Robertson in street clothes)
• A Ken Anderson Superbowl TD
• A mugshot of any of the Bengals

What do you think is missing? What's there that surprises you (for me, it's all the high school athletics)?

Heartless Bastards On TV Tuesday

Set your VCR DVR: As Griff told us last month, the Heartless Bastards will be on the David Letterman Show Tuesday night. For the truly uninformed, the show is on CBS following the late local news.

It could well be a show with high ratings, as the only other announced guest is the crew of Flight 1549. (Rumors are that ComAir intends to start landing planes in the Ohio to generate similarly positive press.)

Anyhow: make sure you watch the Heartless Bastards in their network television debut. Maybe they'll let Captain Sully sit in....

I know, I know, music is Griff's beat. I'll go back to writing about more boring things now.

Why Not A Public Safety Bailout?

For a few days, I've been thinking about a Peter Bronson column and blog post from last week, in which our favorite pundit suggests that the Hamilton County Board of Commissioners should be seeking stimulus money for the construction of a new jail. And I can't help wondering: doesn't he have a point?

First, let's take care of debunking the all too familiar Bronson histrionics. From the column:

Records show that inmates with more than 100 charges against them were "let go" in the past month. DUIs, drug possession, indecency and other relatively minor crimes are first in line. But some were charged with assault, resisting arrest, breaking and entering, domestic violence, theft and menacing.
When I toured the jail last July, long before the budget cuts, I met two dozen nmates. Only two were marijuana cases, and it wasn't their first rodeo. The rest were a citizen's nightmare: assault, burglary, domestic violence, attempted murder, drug trafficking, aggravated robbery ...

Two points:
1. Judges often set own-recognizance bonds for assault and domestic violence cases in which the only witness is the prosecuting witness, particularly if an officer sees no sign of injury and issues a referral rather than signing a complaint him- or herself. "Theft" can be shoplifting a candy bar. And menacing sounds really bad, but it's actually a fourth-degree misdemeanor--the least serious offense for which imprisonment is an option. So how many "sheriff releases" would have been required to post a cash bond if they had seen a judge? Tough to know, and Bronson doesn't help us to extrapolate the number in any meaningful way.

2. Bronson's July jail tour isn't at all representative. For one thing, he toured the jail (according to that column) alongside Public Defender Lou Strigari while Strigari was making the rounds for felony arraignments. So guess what? Bronson met accused felons; aside from B&E, all of the crimes he describes in the first paragraph I quote are misdemeanors. For another, until it closed, Queensgate was a facility designed for low- and medium-risk inmates. That meant that Bronson would only meet the highest security risks (typically, those with the most serious charges lodged against them) in the Justice Center.

Now that that's out of the way, let's move to the meat of Bronson's column: that stimulus money could or should build a new jail for Hamilton County. On the surface, the proposal makes sense. A jail facility is a public works project. In the short term, it would create jobs (in the construction trades). And there's bipartisan agreement that Hamilton County's jail facilities are currently inadequate.

Bronson's proposal does not, however, solve other critical public safety problems. It does not restore the recently laid-off sheriff's deputies. The County would still need to find a way to finance the operation of a new jail (and corrections officers to staff it). While the Democrats had wanted to provide stimulus funds to put cops on the streets, the only way to avoid a Republican filibuster in the Senate was to strip those provisions out.

So Bronson's has the hint of a good idea: federal money could be sought to build the jail that a majority of voters have been thus far unwilling to finance with locally generated tax dollars. But without a plan to fund the operation of the jail, we could be spending millions for an empty building (see Queensgate for an example of a jail that lacks operations funding). Maybe Bronson's ready to unveil the rest of his plan to get us a working jail with federal funds. But he hasn't done it yet.